Chapter Seven.

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The Assassin and the School Boys!

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Chapter Seven.                                                                                       Damien’s Picture

I knew it was going to happen. It happened every night when I was away from Cameron, Katie and Grace the memories would come back in the form of nightmares. I didn’t want to go to sleep but want and need are two very different things and I needed sleep since I had hardly any last night because of Cameron. Well the upside was if I started screaming in my sleep, it would wake up the boys which had been hitting on me all night.

Well you can’t avoid sleep I thought as I closed my eyes.

Elizabeth’s Dream.

I was surrounded y darkness and the smell of dirt ad blood. I could see the outline of my father standing above me while I lied on the ground. “Who are you?” He shouted at me.

“I’m Elizabeth.” I shouted back at him I wouldn’t let him do this.

I felt the hard belt which he held come down on me. The hard cold buckle already wet with my blood and hungry for more  hit me. I screamed out in pain as my back had one more cut flushing blood open.

“Who are you?” He shouted at me again.

And again I answered “Elizabeth” but my words were becoming less loud the cuts on my back deeper and more painful as they criss-crossed.

He shouted at me again and again and I shouted back but my words were now coming out mumbled and nearly silent.

He asked me for what seemed like the thousandth time by now the my back felt like it was on fire my eyesight was now flickering I wouldn’t be able to take another stroke from the belt.

“Who are you?” He screamed raising the belt.

“I’m…I’m nothing.” I mumbled in the smallest voice. This time the belt did not come down on me but that was a small mercy my mind was screaming at me not to give in and to fight him but my body was screaming louder telling me it wanted to sleep and nurse its wounds and my father would not let that happen until he was done.

“That’s right you are nothing, you are worthless and should not be alive. She should she should be alive.” He shouted spitting on my broken body.

I heard his steps retreating and I felt another piece of me brake as I said I was nothing, the older I grew up the worse it was he has finally decided that he didn’t want me out in public so he had locked me in the basement, my new hell.

But this time he came back only an hour later. He didn’t leave me to heal he came back and this time he had a knife and a beer bottle in hand. “You bitch you took her away from me because of you she’s dead you hoar.” He screamed his words slurred.

He staggered towards me wile I tried to crawl away but the pain in my back doubled making me scream my father seemed to like that because he laughed.

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